


flowers and other small tokens

by bewarethesmirk



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/pseuds/bewarethesmirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was customary for Gwen to commemorate Morgana’s birthday with flowers...</p>
            </blockquote>





	flowers and other small tokens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everysecondtues (tuesday)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/gifts).



> Beta-ed by heather.

It was customary for Gwen to commemorate Morgana’s birthday with flowers, but now that things had changed (at some indefinable point in time when Morgana and Gwen were no longer just friends, but just were), Gwen knew flowers alone wouldn’t be enough.

What Gwen really wanted to give Morgana was something else entirely. She wanted to take her Lady’s brush and run the bristles through Morgana’s hair, allow her fingers to scratch softly over her scalp, and then down to the soft skin at the nape of her neck. Gwen wanted. Gwen wanted very much. But she couldn’t do that or all might be lost, and above all else, she couldn’t lose Morgana. 

On the day of Morgana’s birthday, Gwen entered her Lady’s chambers with a heart heavy in memory but not in regret. Morgana’s eyes were bright at the sight of the freshly cut flowers that Gwen clutched in one hand, but of greater interest was what Gwen carried in her other hand.

“In honour of your birth,” Gwen said through a constricted throat. The metal was cold in her clenched fist, and it was both a burden and a relief to press it into Morgana’s hand. Their fingers slid together, and it was not Gwen’s breath that hitched but Morgana’s.

Morgana pulled her hand away, bestowed one questioning look upon Gwen before opening her fingers to reveal, resting in the palm of her hand, a simple golden locket sparkling on its chain. She must have recognised the significance immediately, Gwen realised, anticipation and nervousness both fluttering in her stomach.

Raising widened eyes to Gwen, Morgana shook her head forcefully. “Gwen, this is lovely, but I can’t accept it.” Morgana tried to pass the necklace back into Gwen’s still outstretched hand, but Gwen refused to move, so their hands remained as one, clasped over the locket, their fingers somehow having entwined. “This was your father’s,” Morgana said, a heavy whisper, weighted regret and unburied fury (and Gwen knew she was remembering the circumstances surrounding her father’s death). “You wear this every day. How could I so selfishly take this gift?”

Gwen smiled and tightened her fingers. “I want you to have it, my Lady. I wanted to show you how much I care.” Gwen felt heat rise to her face. “I mean, how much I appreciate the privilege to serve you – that is to say – ”

“Gwen.” 

“I really want you to have it. It’s all I can give you and you deserve so much more. I just don’t have anything else worthy of giving.”

“That’s not true,” Morgana said, and with her fingers still around Gwen’s, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Gwen’s, softly, chastely, as Gwen had barely dared to imagine thousands of times before. Against her lips, Morgana said, “You give me yourself. That’s all I need. You must keep the locket. I can’t accept it.”

But apparently there were other things Morgana would accept. Morgana claimed Gwen’s lips in a second kiss, and this one was anything but chaste, and Gwen – well, she had imagined that, too.


End file.
